


Write Your Letters In Ink and Your Adventures In Soul

by Thisisarealtagwhy



Series: 20 Years At Sea [10]
Category: One Piece
Genre: 20 Years at Sea, Angst, Day 10: Arcs, Gen, Marco is a sad man, PTSD, References to Sabo, Speculation i guess, Wano Arc, he somehow managed to save it off the Moby Dick, that may or may not hallucinate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 11:16:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11645451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisarealtagwhy/pseuds/Thisisarealtagwhy
Summary: His only company are the small animals of the island and the one constant, always chattering away in his ear as he had in life.But Marco refuses to perish thus far, he has a mission, to deliver the only thing he could save of the two people who had once matteredeverythingin life.(Written for Day 10: Arcs)





	Write Your Letters In Ink and Your Adventures In Soul

**Author's Note:**

> hmm, i seem to be going backwards for days, but this is kind of after the next work? idk, im just writing as it comes.
> 
> ive also been inspired by a few works ive seen going around about when Marco is found so here ya go, my take on the matter.

Marco has been by himself for a long time.

He long since had broken up with the remainder of the Whitebeard pirates.

After their defeat against Teach once more they had decided that it was probably best to go their separate ways.

Especially seeing as a lot of their crew were hammers, and Teach had been killing devil fruit users left, right and centre, immediately after the War.

It probably hadn’t helped his sanity too much, the only company he had were the small animals and his one constant, mindlessly chattering in his ear as he had in life.

Marco was very isolated out here, he lived in the dense forest of the island. Aside from the nature, there was only a singular village out this way, and they mostly left him alone if he left them alone.

There had been a few incidents when he hadn’t been quick enough to shift out of the view of curious children and imposing adults who wanted him to come back to the village, some even left him home-cooked meals and on one occasion, a robe.

He couldn’t go with them though.

He had no home to go to.

No family.

Nothing.

Except for a leather bound book he had kept on his person at all times, it was the only thing he had been able to recover from the Moby Dick after it had gone up in flames.

Part of it was singed and in places the leather had become brittle and tarred when exposed to the heat, the pages were swollen from the salty air and yellowed over time but it was still legible.

Marco hated that it was the only thing he truly had to signify his journey with his family.

Swallowing the lump in his throat and blinking away the tears that had appeared on the book, he placed it back inside the robe he now always wore to prevent people from recognising him.

He still had somebody he needed to give it to, at least, if mugiwara survived, he doesn’t really know, it’s been too long since he looked at what was going on around the world.

Marco hates that he can’t read the swollen pages without thinking of Ace’s face as he _falls forward, the smell of burning flesh permeating the air-_

He wills himself out of the war back to the dead leaves crunching around him from the small animals foraging for other, smaller animals.

It’s okay, he thinks, he’s still here, he’s still alive _even though he doesn’t want to be._

He’s still alive.

It’s what Pops died for, he cannot waste that sacrifice even if it _kills him inside._

Making his usual rounds throughout the island he’s surprised to see a ship approaching the island, usually, the only kinds of ships that come out this way is the merchant ship once a month to trade with the people of the island.

They grow most of their own stuff and from what he can tell, are vegetarian, unusual but not too uncommon.

Settling on one of the branches of a tree that has a perfect view of the ship he watches as it approaches.

Not once in the years (he doesn’t really know how many it’s been) he’s lived here has a ship come outside of that schedule.

But as the ship approaches he is surprised with who he senses on board, it’s been a while since he’s seen his two old friends.

“Inuarashi and Nekomamushi.” He murmurs, voice sounding only a bit hoarse despite the years of misuse.

The Mink flag flutters in the wind atop of the small(ish, at least, it is for the New World) boat, proudly.

“It’s been so long.”

“At least you’ll finally see some civilisation, bird-brain.” Thatch says beside him, perched on the same branch.

Marco ignores him, heart pounding, he floats down to the forest floor. He’s long since gotten used to Thatch’s company but it still terrifies him when the man breaks the tenuous silence he gathers around him like his robe.

“Hey, that’s rude, I’m not even that scary.”

Unable to help himself Marco snorts. “Sure, whatever you say.”

Thatch smiles and it’s almost like old times if Marco can ignore the knife protruding from the Third-Division’s back and the blood streaking through his clothes.

He walks closer towards the shore-line, careful to still keep his distance. He can still hear them talking together though,

“There’s a merchant ship that comes here once a month that said they saw him.” Nekomamushi comments lowly, still smoking that kiseru, but Marco can see that he is severely injured; both of them are.

“Mm, I do hope he will join our cause.”

Marco steps out of the cover of the tree-line, they both look unsurprised to see him.

“Marco my friend, it has been too long!” Nekomamushi says, stepping forward, Inuarashi following off their boat.

“It has, I see that you don’t fare well.” Slipping back into an actual language is actually harder than he expected but that’s okay because it’s like riding a bicycle, probably.

Inuarashi just shrugs, “It was the price we payed for defending our nakama.”

“I see.” He knows a lot about that and feels pride for them swell up inside of him despite the fact that now they are closer he can see the stumps.

“Ask them what they’re doing here, they’re clearly looking for you.” Thatch says, analysing both.

“What brings you out this way?”

Nekomamushi grins his Cheshire smile and says, “I figure you haven’t heard about it, but mugiwara no Luffy is still alive.”

“He is?” Relief, pure unadulterated relief tears through him that he actually sits down, thank _god_ their sacrifices were not for nothing.

“Mm, he travelled to Zou and needs a bit of help with Kaidou.” Inuarashi says.

“He does?”

“Already challenging the yonkou, he’s really just Ace’s reckless little brother isn’t he, Marco?”

“Yeah, will you help out?”

“Yes.” It’s said too quickly but he doesn’t care and clearly neither of them do either.

“Alright, we must make haste for Wano then.” Nekomamushi wades back to their ship, helping up Inuarashi up and then tugging Marco up when he all but sagged in the sea water.

God, when did he become so _weak_?

The company’s nice, and he doesn’t hear from Thatch at all for neither of them are ever asleep together, apparently, they’d been taking shifts on the land of Zou.

Although, _he_ doesn’t sleep.

Technically he never really needed to, his healing factor can really just keep him awake if he tries to.

It’s just good for a mental recalibration.

So, he stays awake at all times, conversing with either Nekomamushi or Inuarashi about the years spent on Zou.

In turn he tells them a little of some of the adventures he went on with the Whitebeard pirates, it surprisingly doesn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.

Days later when he finally spots Wano and the brightly coloured ship anchored by its’ shore, without waiting for confirmation, he’s already up in the air, flying towards it.

Spotting the brightly coloured hat still hung around his neck and the red shirt he lands on the ~~boy’s~~ _man’s_ shoulder.

Luffy, to his credit just smiles widely and turns around to him and hugs him. “Pineapple-head!”

“Mugiwara-yoi. It’s been a while.” He says from the rubbery embrace.

“Way too long! I couldn’t thank you for what you did for me in the war.” There is guilt in those dark eyes, eyes that were almost a carbon copy of Ace’s.

He has a feeling why mugiwara might feel guilty, although it is unwarranted.

Unwrapping his very much human arms from Luffy he pulls the weight he’s been carrying for years now out of his robe, the words getting caught in his throat for a few moments he finally manages to say, “This was Ace’s… he um… it was a gift of one of the other division-commanders, he wrote his adventures in here, the way he explained it to me was he was fulfilling somebody’s dream- _yoi_.”

Mugiwara’s eyes have widened and tears have begun to pool in them, Nico Robin is smiling sadly but she seems to be the only one who gets the significance of it, although, they’re all smiling at him and he can see gratitude in their eyes.

Luffy launches himself at Marco again, this time a blubbering mess and Marco can truly tell why Ace used to call his brother a crybaby, “Thank you Marco, thank you.” He whispers, again and again, clutching the book like it’s a life-line.

“It’s no problem-yoi. Now, I heard from Nekomamushi and Inuarashi that you had a yonkou to take down-yoi.”

And for the first time in _daysmonthsyears_ he feels like he’s truly at home among these pirates.


End file.
